


Going Past the Looking Glass

by MaximumSnow



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game), Knock-Knock (Video Game)
Genre: Challenged myself to make the prompts fit into one narrative, Don't Knock Week 2021, Gen, Post either of the endings that involve The Lodger leaving at the end, Webber and Wormwood and The Forest Girl all have small scenes too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29129856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaximumSnow/pseuds/MaximumSnow
Summary: The Lodger somehow walks into a world that he doesn't recognize.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9
Collections: Don't Knock 2021





	1. Dark Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finally walking out of his house to find the girl, The Lodger finds someone.

The sun had set hours ago. The forest that surrounded his house had grown dim, and only the flickering light of his lamp kept the darkness at bay.  
  
He didn’t have much with him when he followed the smiling girl down the path, and it was at this point that he was starting to regret his light load. At least his scarf kept the worst of the chill out.

At some point, a sound drew his attention away, and when he looked back, she was gone.

In her absence, the shadows on the trees grew sharper, and it felt as if something was watching him from the shadows.

Unsure of what to do, he kept following the path even as it grew rough. Briars broached the boarders of the ever narrowing road with complete disregard to whatever order they once had.

He thought he heard murmurs.

Shaking his head to let that thought loose, he ignored them in favor of trying to find the girl again. He paused and closed his eyes as he focused on his breathing.

_Thunk_

_Thunk_

_Thunk_

His eyes snapped open when he picked out the unnatural sound from the usual ambiance of a forest at night. _What could that be?_

His rounds often dictated checking strange noises to ensure there weren’t any intruders or problems with the building itself, but none had sounded quite like this.

The path went in the same general direction as the noise, but he picked up the pace as he hurried towards it.

_THUNK_

_THUNK_

_THUNK_

Eventually an opening in the bushes allowed him to go off the path, and it didn’t take long for him to find a clearing. On the other side-

Light.

A person.

The person was wearing a strange hat that emitted light, and in their hands was an axe. The tree in front of them had a notable chunk missing from the side.

He didn’t have time to fully appreciate the sight of another person before a loud groan not unlike the creaking of trees in a strong wind filled the air.

The other person nearly dropped the axe at the sound, but they quickly regained their grip before running.

He reached out a hand as his feeble voice tried to call them back. “Wait!”

Before he could say anything else or even pursue them, a heavy weight slammed into his back.


	2. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt mixed with: d) Nobody likes treeguards very much 
> 
> The Lodger has the strangest nightmare...

What followed when his eyes opened could only be a dream. His lamp was miraculously still intact despite falling to the ground with him, and the light kept the darkness at bay.

He could distantly feel the ground beneath him shaking, but his limbs were moving incredibly slow despite his urges. 

It was just a bad dream; it couldn’t hurt him, right?

That’s what he tried telling himself as his eyes were drawn to the frankly fantastical scene in front of him.

A huge tree that had grown limbs was traversing the land with purpose; he could only tell how tall it was from where the starlight was blocked by the huge entity’s head.

It took him a moment to realize what it was going after. 

The person from earlier, still wearing the same hat but wearing something that looked like someone had cobbled together armor from logs, was swinging a weapon with huge spikes on it every time the tree got too close. 

After each swing, they would quickly back away, and it took him a moment to realize what they were doing as he saw two more light sources coming at the creature from behind. 

There was no way what he was seeing was real. One was dark and almost furry looking, and the other was green with flowers growing out of them. They were both wearing smaller versions of the same armor-like vest that the earlier person was wearing, but theirs appeared to be much newer.

They also swung sticks with huge spikes on them.

He couldn’t get a look at the their faces from this angle, but he could only guess what strange things his mind would come up with.

At this point, his eyes started to drift close again even though his mind suddenly seemed to realize that sounds should be accompanying the scene.

But he was also very tired, and his back was aching.

When he actually woke up, he could try finding the real person he found, and maybe ask them what was going on.


	3. Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lodger finally gets to meet the person he saw. And a few others.

“Hello?” A voice said.

Something was nudging him. It took a few minutes before he could put together that they were trying to wake him. Over him, he could hear voices conversing with each other.

A deeper, scratchy voice asked, “Is he still alive?” Was this one sick? Or did something happen to their throat?

“He looks like you!” Another deep voice said. Despite the pitch being different, this one brought to mind the sound of air going through a wooden instrument.

“No he doesn’t! The hair is all wrong.”

“Close enough...”

“It doesn’t matter,” The first voice interrupted, “Come on, wake up...”

He felt pressure on his back, and that snapped him awake as he couldn’t contain a gasp of pain. The pressure immediately lifted, and when he opened his eyes, he could see the person from earlier kneeling in front of him with their arm pulled back.

Now that he was closer, he could see that it was a man wearing a red vest over a white shirt. His black hair was mostly being covered by a hat that contained a functioning light bulb at the front.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t know you were hurt there. But at least you’re awake!” The nervous smile that greeted him only marginally put him at ease.

“How did I-”

Before he could get the far too quiet question out, two more hatted heads crowded by the first person.

… He must still be asleep.

“Yeah, you got hit pretty hard by that Treeguard. Good thing it was just a backhand. Those claws are _sharp.”_ The scratchy voice went to the being he could only call the unholy amalgamation of human and spider. The furred humanoid body possessed a head that had fangs and far too many eyes, and if he looked really hard, he could see spider legs sticking out from under the hat.

“We have buzz juice to help!” He couldn’t help but think that the wooden voice matched the green and leaved creature very well. Now that he was looking closer, he could see that the flowers weren’t growing out of them like he originally thought. The armor was _decorated._

This was too much.

He shook his head as he tried again to speak. “No, I must-It’s a dream. I’ll be fine when I wake up.”

The other human bit his lip as if in deep thought. “… If you’re feeling pain, it’s probably not a dream.”

“That’s the only explanation! It can’t be-”

Distant howling and barking echoed through the night.

All three froze in place, fear etched onto their faces.

“We’ll have to talk this out later. You need to come with us _now,”_ The man said before reaching forward. Between him and the other two, they were able to get him standing, and the spider person handed him his lamp back.

Someone had turned it off. The thoughtfulness seemed unnecessary for a dream, but he didn’t get to muse on that much before the man had grabbed his wrist and started to pull him along.

Why did his back hurt so much?

“I’m Wilson, by the way,” the man said between breaths. Wait, when did they start running?

“Webber!” The spider human shouted out ahead of them.

“I’m Wormwood, Wilson look-a-like!” Behind them, the plant creature called.

His breathing made it difficult to respond, and thankfully, they didn’t seem to push him for an answer as they bolted through the trees. He could feel the pine needles as some managed to work their way into his slippers, and the rough terrain sent sharp pains into his back if he wasn’t careful.

… This felt extreme even for one of his dreams…


	4. Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lodger discovers the joys of a hound wave

He lost track of how long they had been running, and it was only Wilson’s iron grip on his arm that kept him moving forward. The other two kept their positions in line as they ran, even though he knew he must be slowing them down.

He almost didn’t notice the trees thinning out until a blast of cold air slammed into him. His scarf managed to keep the bite away from his throat, but his nightgown was not nearly thick enough to block out the piercing wind.

It knocked the breath right out of him.

“We’re almost there! Just a little further!” Wilson encouraged him when he slowed down. Despite that, he couldn’t help but notice that the voice was shrill. Even though he kept telling himself this was a dream, he could feel his own fear building.

All he could do was focus on moving his legs and breathing, and as curious as he was about where they were going, he had to keep his eyes on Wilson and the ground as they traveled.

Eventually, Wilson slowed, and in a much quieter voice, he said, “Be careful, we’re going to the center of a trap field. Follow me _exactly._ ”

Wilson still hadn’t let go, so it was easy for him to follow. At one point, he finally looked down, and in the constantly moving light, he could see the traps.

The spikes alone made him nervous. He did _not_ want to find out what would happen if he tripped one of them.

Once they made it to what he had to guess was the center, Webber pulled out a strange stick with a gem at the end. The gem glowed for a second before a ball of warm light appeared close by. “That should warm you up!”

Wormwood wasn’t far behind them, and he all but ran towards the light. Once he put his back to it, he looked over towards him and Wilson. “Where’s your armor?”

“Treeguard gouged out most of it, unfortunately.”

“Already?” Webber shouted disapprovingly.

“It got lucky!”

The squabble ended as soon as another round of howls interrupted.

“… It’s better than nothing,” Wilson said before pulling something out of his backpack and handing it to him.

It was a helmet of some kind, along with what he guessed was the remains of the log armor that he had seen Wilson in earlier.

“How do I… What is this?”

“Armor. Sometimes the hounds make it through. I’d give you something better, but this is all we’ve got for now.” Wilson had turned his attention back to his bag as he pulled out a spiked stick.

“Don’t you need it?” He didn’t even know how to put the mess of a log suit on.  
  
“I’ll manage. You need it more after getting hit earlier...”

He decided to put the helmet on, at least. It helped with the cold, a little.

The other two were preparing for battle as well, but they kept looking over at him and Wilson in concern.

“You sure you don’t want mine, Wilson?” Webber finally called out.  
  
“No, you kids need all the protection you can get.”

_Kids?!_

These were children?

Something cold and wet landed on his outstretched hand and snapped him out of the spiral his thought were going down. “Snow?”

“Of course the hounds come out on the first night of winter!” Wilson sounded more aggravated than confused at the sudden appearance of the white herald. “… Wait, do you need help with that armor? It’ll keep some of the cold out too.”

He could only nod in response. Webber wandered over to quickly help with the task, and soon, he felt like a strange knight.

It was just in time. Howling and snarls that were far too close for comfort were the only warning before a black creature that only had the loosest of associations with canids appeared at the edge of the fields.

It either didn’t notice or chose to ignore the traps.

He had to look away before the horrible thing killed the beast. Even if it only barely looked like a dog, it made sounds of pain very similar to one.

There were more.

A lot more.

He couldn’t take it and collapsed.


	5. Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lodger deals with an apparition...

He was back home.

On one hand, this was where he had spent his entire life. On the other, he had… tried… to put this place behind him.

The door was carefully closed like he had left it, and after that nightmare his mind had come up with, he just wanted to go home. He could venture out later.

As his hand touched the knob, a familiar sound of birds chirping caught his attention. He turned to look, and there was the girl again.

She looked sad.

“I tried following you, I think. I had a nightmare, and I can try again later,” He said in explanation.

Her expression didn’t change. The sticks in her hair angled downwards in a way that reminded him of a sad puppy.

He sighed before trying to approach her again. This time, she stayed in place, and he ventured to touch her shoulder or otherwise try to comfort her.

His hand went straight through her body.

Shocked, he yanked his hand away and took a few hurried steps backwards. Her expression grew even more somber.

“You’re- You’re not real. I should have guessed, I know, but I thought-” He wasn’t even sure how to finish that sentence. He hadn’t seen anyone in his woods for years, and he must have made her up in his loneliness. Just like he made up that man and the inhuman children.

 _The fact that she reminded him of someone was too uncomfortable to think on for long_.

“I’m going home.” He started to go back to his house and turned his back to the apparition.

She shook her head in a panic before she ran towards him. A feather light touch grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him away from his destination.

He could see his far too pale skin through her hand. “I’m not playing with guests tonight!” He said as he tried to shake her off.

She was determined, however, and despite his size advantage and best efforts, she was surely dragging him away from the house.

_Wait, was THIS a dream?_

When he took the first step into the undergrowth, he was struck with a cold chill that permeated most of his body, and his vision grew dark. The grip on his wrist disappeared, but he felt like he was leaning forward against something warm.

With little input from his mind, his body immediately reacted to the input, and he wrapped his arms around the warmth and buried his face into it.


	6. Weird Book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lodger wakes up and gets to see a pet project that the people he’s found are working on.

On the far edge of his consciousness, he could hear voices, but even the one right overhead was indistinct. He could vaguely tell that they were trying to be quiet, but after being alone for so long, other people’s voices caught his attention and held it.

His waking mind noticed that he was much warmer than earlier, and that his face was buried into something soft and fuzzy. He slowly started to lift his face away from whatever his pillow was, and he hissed. With the now fading cold, an ache in his back was still trying to make itself known.

… It was getting harder to deny this reality. The man- Wilson- was right about pain and dreams.

Speaking of.

“You’re awake!” At his flinch, Wilson quickly dropped his voice again. “Too loud. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m not used to so much noise in the morning...” He shook his head a few times before slowly trying to open his eyes.

“Oh it’s good I sent Webber and Wormwood off then. They’re dying to talk to you.”

“I wouldn’t be very-” When his eyes focused on the thing in front of him, he trailed off as he tried to figure out just _what_ he had been sleeping against.

It looked like a giant fuzzy fly. The wings were _far_ too small to carry such a large creature, but the legs he could see shouldn’t have been capable of lifting it either.

“That’s Glommer,” Wilson explained. The insect flapped its wings as if in response to the name, and it somehow managed to float upwards and out of the tent. 

While he was slowly accepting this had to be real, that didn’t make believing some of this nonsense any easier.

… Now that the bug wasn’t taking up most of his vision, he could appreciate that he was now in a tent, and Wilson was sitting cross legged on the other side.

In his lap was an open book, and there was a quill in his hand.

Memories of writing in his small and neat handwriting came to mind. “Is that your diary?”

“No, it _was_ a picture book for letters to help Wormwood with reading, but I’m having to redo it. I wasn’t sure how long you were going to be out, so I brought it with me to work on.”

“Why remake it?”

“Because he has his own names for everything,” Wilson turned the book around to show the page he was working on. On it was a giant English letter and a rough picture of a bird. “T is for Tweeter.”

“Interesting...”

Wilson closed the book and stowed away the quill before asking, “Anyway, now that you’re awake, is it okay if I check you for injuries? You weren’t bleeding out, so I didn’t want to invade your privacy. But you _did_ get hit pretty hard.”

That made him uneasy. He didn’t want to be poked and prodded like some caged animal for a science experiment, but he also didn’t think he could say no in his situation. “Are you a doctor?”

The guarded question must have caught Wilson’s attention. He lifted his hands so that they were visible. “Not really, but I’m the main one taking care of injuries. I was a gentleman scientist before all this.”

“A scientist?” On one hand, that did add to his unease, but on the other… Well, _he_ was a scientist too, right? An observer. “What did you study?”

Wilson winced before looking away. “Well, a little bit of everything. I didn’t have a specialty.”

He stared at Wilson as he thought on that answer, and it was a little comforting that the other scientist appeared to squirm under the gaze.

“… If it makes you feel any better, the honey poultices are mostly Wormwood’s creation? They work pretty well even if its just bruising.”

He knew honey, and its uses in old healing salves. That would be a safe bet. “… That will do.” He finally said in agreement. Sitting up properly, he started to take off his scarf. “I will let you know when I’m ready, please turn around until then.”

This was going to be a long day. At least he could distract himself by asking more about that book Wilson was working on. In addition to everything else.


	7. We Can Survive Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lodger has to consider what has to happen next.

After a honey poultice was applied to the apparently large bruise on his back, he sat down as he watched Wilson walk out. From the open tent flap, he could see white covering most of the ground outside.

How did the snow fall _that_ quickly? Or had he been out longer than he thought?

As he tried to logic out how this much snow could have fallen, Wilson returned with a large bundle in his arms. He placed it on the ground in front of him and stepped back. “You should take it easy while you heal up, but this should keep you warm if you want to venture out.”

He dug through the pile and found a set of ear muffs, a thick vest, and several different sets of clothes. “… I don’t need to wear all of this, do I? It seems a bit much.”

“Oh, no, the muffs and the vest were the main things. The clothes were because we have some spare things we’ve picked up, and I wasn’t sure what would fit or what you would like.”

He pawed through the options, and it took him a moment to remember his manners. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be right outside if you need me.” With that, Wilson took his leave.

Leaving him alone with his thoughts. Which was welcome. He hadn’t had time to think on the events of the last few… hours, and even if he was grateful to find others, he wasn’t going to immediately adjust to being sociable after years of being alone.

The girl had disappeared on him, and at this point, he really did not know whether she was real or not. She could have been real before, and it was only in that dream where she wasn’t. If she _was_ real, however, then why would she guide him here?

In the few hours he was awake, he had already dealt with two dangerous encounters in addition to the onset of winter, and it was likely only due to Wilson, Webber, and Wormwood’s intervention that he was still alive. While his home had been… unstable, it was much safer than this!

His thoughts strayed to the people he had found. He wasn’t sure of what to make of the two strange children. They weren’t normal by any stretch of the imagination, but Wilson clearly thought they were safe to be around and even treated them as regular kids.

And they acted like children, from what little he had seen, as well.

Given how he had abandoned his home at the bidding of a girl who he was pretty sure was as human as these two were, maybe he shouldn’t be making any harsh judgments about Wilson’s self preservation instincts.

Then there was Wilson himself. He seemed fairly nice, but the mention of being a scientist _had_ brought up something in the back of his mind. It was dark and scary and refused to give itself shape, and he wasn’t sure why it was there.

However, his eyes were once again drawn to the patched together book that Wilson had left behind. He was trying to teach one of them _to read._ The one who sounded like he had never been given anything resembling an education and had made things up as he went.

He had insisted on them keeping their armor when the hounds came, and gave what little he did have to a stranger.

Wilson couldn’t be _that_ bad, could he?

The shadow of things that once were apparently agreed enough that it no longer filled him with mistrust.

With that weight off his shoulders, he was able to properly look at the options laid before him and started to try things on.

He wasn’t sure how long he had spent doing so, but once he had proper clothes on in addition to the winter gear, he took a tentative look outside.

And got a snowball right in his face.

The scratchy voice he knew belonged to Webber first laughed before shouting, “Oh wait, you’re not Wilson. SORRY!”

“Webber, I walked _right_ by you, how did you not see me?” Wilson shouted from a distance.

“Stop being mean with the snow!” Wormwood called out.

As he tried to rub the snow out of his eyes and hair, their banter continued, but he could hear Wilson’s voice drawing closer.

“Are you alright? He didn’t mean to hit you.”

“I’ve endured worse than a little snow in my face,” He said as he waved Wilson away. He could still hear the children conversing in the background, but he needed to focus on just talking with Wilson. Once he could properly open his eyes, he asked with little prompt, “So what now?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve rescued me twice, helped me recover, and given me a not insignificant amount of weather appropriate clothing. Is this the part where you send me on my way or-”

“I wouldn’t do that to someone in _winter._ Not unless you really want to go right now, and I wouldn’t recommend it. We have enough supplies to support four people until spring.”

“Winter can be incredibly harsh. And it looks like it’s even harsher here.”

“This isn’t my or their first winter, and we’ve all dealt with _significantly_ less.” Wilson’s arm swept to the side and drew his attention to the rest of the camp.

… There was a lot more here than he was expecting.

“And, you don’t _have_ to survive alone, you know? It’s just us right now due to some… Unfortunate incidents. There are others out here, but _finding_ them can be hard even in autumn.”

That gave him pause. “You want me to stay?”

“Only if you want to? You seem a nice enough fellow.”

“… I’ll consider your offer. But I would like to stay through winter.” That would give him more time to know these people, and he could decide later whether he would stay or resume his search for the forest girl.

But he would be hard pressed to say he didn’t feel some warmth when the two children bounded over and nearly tackled Wilson in delight at the news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! This was as far as I was planning on going with this story, but it was fun to write. Maybe one day I might revisit the general idea, but for now, I need to get back to my other projects. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
